


Neon Weekend

by WhenInDoubtSleep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Body Shots, Drinking, Flirting, House Party, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Not What It Looks Like, Not really though, Party, Party Crashing, Ping-Pong, Rich Lance (Voltron), broganes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 03:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15986549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenInDoubtSleep/pseuds/WhenInDoubtSleep
Summary: When Keith accidentally ends up at the wrong party, he is immediately mesmerized by the host, Lance McClain. So what if he had never met anyone there, he had never been the type to turn down free alcohol and cute boys.“Holy shit, you’re a millionaire? I like… am getting my PhD because I was too stressed about being a real adult. I’m like half a million dollars in debt or something ridiculous. Who even are you?” Keith exclaimed.“No… who are you?” And Keith was not ready for that. He froze, eyes wide. And they sat in silence for a few minutes. He wasn't sure how to explain that he had just sort of stumbled here. How was he supposed to tell Lance that he hadn't meant to stay, but Lance was just so charming.





	Neon Weekend

Keith wasn’t stupid. Sure, he could not find his way to Shiro’s apartment, and he was wandering around the apartment complex uselessly. But he wasn’t stupid.

  
This was really Shiro’s fault. Keith had found his way to the complex easily thanks to his samsung, but Shiro was absolutely shit at directions. Keith stopped, eyebrows furrowed as he tried desperately to remember the half-slurred directions that Shiro had given him three days prior.

  
With an annoyed huff, keith just walking into the closest building, taking the elevator to the fourth floor and looking around for 413. The steel doors were barely open when the sound of music and chatter filled the small room.

  
Perfect.

  
Keith made his way down the hallway, following the sound. The door number was covered up by a bright blue sign with glittery letters that read Welcome to The Party. Keith rolled his eyes, surprised by the sudden change in Shiro’s taste.

  
The second that Keith had pushed his way inside, he knew that this was definitely not his older brother’s apartment. Where there should be plain, mostly undecorated walls, there were bright paintings with annoying tumblr girl slogans like live love laugh. There were also tea candles and every person in the room had a craft beer or some kind of beautiful mixed drink in hand as they chatted.

  
And all Keith could think was, who’s fucking house am I in? And as he takes a slow step backwards, getting closer to the door, a large, friendly looking man rounds the corner and grins at him.  
“Hey man, can I get you a drink? You don’t have a drink,” He says, turning on his heels and walking towards the kitchen.

  
Keith considers turning around and running out the door before anyone else can notice him, but he finds himself following the other man. He looked around as he walked, taking in all of the young, gorgeous people in fashionable outfits. He sighed, shaking his head.

  
“So, there are all kinds of craft beers and IPAs in the fridge, but Lance also has champagne and liquor if that’s more your style,” the guy says, and Keith snorts, raising his eyebrows.

  
“Champagne?”

  
“Yeah, Lance insists. He always says that it’s not a party unless he can drink his pink champagne,” Keith just nods slowly, imagining a flamboyant, high brow young man sipping at pink champagne. The idea is slightly nauseating to him.

  
“I’ll just take a beer, then,” Keith says, nodding once and leaning against the counter as the other man pulls out a beer and takes the cap off before offering it to him.

  
“I’m Hunk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around. Did you just meet Lance recently? How do you know him?” And Keith is startled by all of the questions that he doesn’t have answers to.

  
“I’m Keith… and y’know. Just from around,” he says vaguely before taking a long drink of his beer.

  
“Yeah, that’s Lance. He knows everyone. Such a social butterfly, that man can talk to anyone. It’s nice to meet you, Keith,” Hunk says cheerfully before adding, “There are lots of hors-d'oeuvres around. All courtesy of me, of course. Feel free to help yourself,”

  
Keith just takes another sip of his beer, thinking wistfully about leaving this unknown apartment full of strangers. He had never been very good at meeting new people, and now, he was a party crasher. He recalled his second year of college when he would get angry at the freshman slipping into the parties to steal drinks. But here he was, sipping craft beer in an apartment that looked like Pinterest had thrown up on the walls.

  
“Lance is over at the ping pong table, playing Rolo. We should go watch. He’s really good,” Hunk mused, walking towards the living room. Keith glanced in the direction of the door, but Hunk was looking over his shoulder a minute later to make sure that Keith was following.

  
The two men weaved through the other party goers until they were standing near the table where two guys were playing, both wearing a stern, focused expression.

  
“I’ve never like ping pong,” Keith said to Hunk, watching the two men play, and he was surprised when Hunk wasn’t the one to respond.

  
“The only people who don’t like ping pong are shit at ping pong. Table tennis is inarguably the greatest invention of mankind,” a boy with tanned skin and chestnut hair said as he hit the ball seamlessly over the net.

  
Keith frowned, crossing his arms, “I am not shit at ping pong,” he argued.

  
“Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that, dude. But unless you challenge me to a game and win, I don’t believe you,” the boy mused, smirking as he continued the volley.

  
“Hey, that’s assuming you even win, dumbass,” the other guy spouts and the brunette just laughs, shaking his head.

  
“I am not shit at ping pong!” Keith argued again, and the brunette laughs again, his smirk widening to a grin.

  
“Alright then, after I kick Rolo’s ass, you and me,” his words are confident, and Keith rolls his eyes, nodding.

  
“Okay, you’re on,” He says, sipping at his beer again.

  
He spends the rest of the match watching the man, who he assumed was lance, play. He side eyed Hunk, wondering why he had seemed so genuinely fond of this dude (who is kind of a pain in the ass more than anything).

  
So Keith sized him up, giving him a slow once-over. He was wearing skin-tight black skinny jeans and a worn, blue shirt. He looked to be about Keith’s age, but he seemed young and charming. Keith had never been more captivated by a human being than he was in that moment.

  
Keith fished his phone out of his pocket, shooting Shiro a text to let him know that he'll probably be a little bit late to the party before sticking it back in his jeans. Lance hit a particularly good serve, and Keith bit his lip.

  
“It isn’t too late to back out, you know?” And Keith frowned deeply, gaping at the brunette.

  
“Why would I do that?”

  
“Y’know, save yourself from the embarrassment. Pride and all that jazz. I haven't been beaten during the last nine parties,” and his voice is just so casual. He seems so unbothered by everything going on around him.

  
“Well, you haven’t played me yet. And I play to win,” Keith countered, grip tightening on the beer bottle.

  
“You talk a big talk. ‘S that the only thing that’s big?” Lance asked, and Keith choked on his beer, coughing into the crook of his elbow. Jesus Christ, who is this guy?

  
And on the next serve, Lance had won, bowing dramatically in front of all of his guests. Keith snorted, shaking his head at the boisterous display.

  
“You’re up, dude. Don’t let him beat your ass too hard,” Rolo muttered, shoving the paddle at him. Keith just smirks, moving to take Rolo’s place.

  
“Don’t worry. I don’t lose,” Keith assured, waiting for Lance’s serve.

  
And much to Lance’s surprise, Keith wasn’t shit. He was actually really good. Keith had played a lot of ping pong when he lived at his third foster home. They had a table, and it was pretty much the only thing they would let him do. And now here he was, kicking the smug man’s ass at a party that he hadn’t even been invited to.

  
“And that, my dude. Is what losing feels like,” Keith said, as he finished the game, “How’s it feel to play an actual pro?”

  
“Fuck off, man. What was that?” He asked cheeks tinged pink. Keith’s smile widened.

  
“Oh, that? I believe, now correct me if I’m wrong, that that was me kicking your smug ass into next week,” Keith said, walking towards the blue-eyed boy.

  
“Shut up, no one beats me,” He muttered, and Keith raised his eyebrows, staring at the man’s pouty lips.

  
“You’ll get em next time,” Keith teased, and Lance stared at him, eyes wide.

  
“You’re the worst!”

  
“Nope. The best, as the score would indicate,” Keith retorted, grabbing his beer from the coffee table that he had set it on.

  
“Fuck off,” Lance said, but there was no bite to his words. He idly followed the man to the kitchen, watching him pull out that stupid pink champagne and a flute.

  
“That stuff cannot be any good,” Keith muttered offhandedly, and Lance looked over at him, smiling.

  
“It’s really good, tastes like springtime,” Lance said, smiling brightly, “Want to taste it?” He asked, and Keith snorted, shaking his head.

  
“Nah man, not really my style,” He argued, and Lance sauntered a bit closer, leaning against the counter.

  
“You could drink it off of me,” He suggested, voice lower, and Keith coughed, looking away frantically.

  
“What the fuck?” he all but whispered, and Lance laughed at that, rolling his beautiful eyes.

  
“Just an offer. If you’ve never done a body shot before, that’s cool. Just thought it might be fun,” Lance says with a shrug, and Keith’s cheeks flared a violent shade of red.

  
“I’ve done body shots before,” He argued, standing up straighter, “Lay down, Lance,”

  
And the boy hopped up on the kitchen’s island, staring at Keith mischievously before slipping his shirt off, setting it aside. Keith’s eyes wandered down his toned chest. A few other party guests had gathered around, chatting about Lance and body shots and how exciting this was.

  
“Well?” Lance prompted and Keith shushed him, grabbing the champagne and sighing, trying to ignore his heart, which was beating uncomfortably fast in his chest. He hoped that no one could tell.  
Without a second thought, he poured some of the champagne before dipping down to suck it from the other boy’s belly button, eyebrows furrowing at the giggle it pulled from Lance’s lips. He pulled back, looking up at him.

  
“Sorry. “M a bit ticklish,” Lance said, pulling his shirt back on, and Keith just shook his head, in awe of the other man, “So, as bad as you thought it would be?” He requested, and Keith just shook his head.

  
“No, it’s pretty good,” He admitted, a hand moving up to run through his fringe.

  
“Nice mullet, by the way. Didn’t know people still did the whole mullet thing. It’s a statement,” Lance said, and Keith frowned.

  
“I don’t have a mullet, fuck off,” Keith muttered, and Lance threw his head back to laugh again.

  
“I’m glad you didn’t hate the champagne. It’s fucking expensive,” Lance said, moving towards the fridge, “But I’ll give you another beer. It’s not everyone’s taste. And you look like you enjoyed the beer. How’s the party so far?” He asked, handing Keith a new beer, and Keith smiled widely, shrugging.

  
“It’s really nice. A lot different than what I’m used to,” He says, and Lance raises his eyebrows.

  
“How so?”

  
“Oh, you know. It’s all classy and high brow. My brother’s parties are just nothing like it. Everyone’s trashed and there’s no ambiance or anything,” He tried to explain, and Lance nods slowly, “Also, no one’s like naked and dancing around to the b-52’s or anything crazy,” And Lance laughs brightly, shrugging.

  
“I dunno, that sounds fun. I wouldn’t mind seeing someone naked and dancing around to love shack,” Lance says, and Keith grimaces.

  
“It was my brother. My brother was dancing around naked. It was fucking disturbing,” He argued, and Lance shuddered, nodding.

  
“Yeah, I mean… most of my friends are attractive. Like Hunk is gorgeous, but he’s not necessarily my type,” He said, and Keith glanced over towards him.

  
“And what is? Your type, I mean,”

  
“Mmm, I’m sure you’d love to know,” Lance said lowly, winking at Keith before leaving the kitchen, going to chat with anyone and everyone.

  
“Holy Shit dude! You got Lance to do a body shot!” a small guy said, smirking deviously up at him.

  
“Hmmm, that’s not normal?” Keith asked, his eyes still trained on Lance.

  
“Nope. He’s a total flirt, don’t get me wrong. But he doesn’t ever really act on it. You must be a special dude. How come we haven’t met before? I’m Katie. You can call me Pidge,” And Keith moves his attention to the girl in front of him.

  
“I’m Keith,” Is all he says in response, and Pidge nods, still smirking.

  
“How do you know our fine, young Lancelot?” She says, and Keith just shrugs again, his cheeks tinged pink.

  
“Oh, y’know how he is. Social butterfly. He’ll talk to anyone,” He says, and she just nods.

  
“Yup, that’s Lance. I shouldn’t be surprised. Well, I’ll see you around, Keith,” She says before slipping away. Keith just wanders over to a bookcase full of records. Of course, this guy listens to things on vinyl.

  
“You can pick something if you want? Although I don’t have any MCR or Evanescence,” Lance teases from behind him, and Keith rolls his eyes, turning around.

  
“Ha Ha, very funny,” He says before surveying the extensive collection and picking an old classic rock band. When he turned back around, Lance was gone yet again, swirling around and talking to everyone.

  
Keith watched him, amazed by how in his element Lance looked. His blue eyes sparkled, and a smile never left his face.

  
Keith sunk down, sitting on the sofa and watching as the party slowly died down, more and more people disappearing. Eventually, Keith was forced to think about himself. He should leave, get out of Lance’s apartment and make an appearance at Shiro’s.

  
He didn’t belong here anyway. He belonged wasted and laying on Shiro’s bed, not sitting on Lance’s leather couch, staring at the dozens of photographs hung on the wall, framed with string lights.  
A moment later, he felt the sofa dip, and looked over, smiling at Lance and sighing gently, “I should be heading out,” He said, and Lance frowned, shaking his head.

  
“No you shouldn’t,” He argued, and Keith chuckled, shaking his head.

  
“Yeah, I should get home,” He tried, and Lance looked up at him from underneath his thick eyelashes.

  
“I mean, you don’t have to,” He offered, and Keith all bug choked again, squeezing his eyes shut as he caught his breath, “I didn’t mean like that,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I just mean that you’ve been drinking, and I don’t mind if you want to stay tonight. You look tired,” He said, standing and nodding in the direction of a hallway.

  
Keith stood without really thinking, following Louis to a spacious room. He really shouldn’t be surprised at this point by the large bed with a white duvet and what had to be 15 throw pillows. Lance tossed his shirt aside before pulling back the duvet and looking over his shoulder at Keith.

  
He followed, climbing into the bed, his cheeks pink.

  
“You’re cute when you blush,” Lance mumbled, and Keith was asleep a moment later, lost in dreams of sea blue eyes and spotless smiles.

 

Keith was disoriented when he woke in the morning, looking around confusedly at the room he was in. He could smell bacon, and he got up, wandering down the hallway and blushing when he saw Lance standing in the kitchen, standing over the stove.

  
“Morning,” Keith said softly, and Lance smiled happily, nodding.

  
“Good morning, sleeping beauty. I hope you like pancakes and eggs and bacon. Because I’m halfway done,” He mused, and Keith just nodded dumbly, watching Lance move.

  
“I’m sorry I slept so late, I didn’t-”

  
“It’s just 10. I’ve only been up for like 20 minutes, calm down.” He assured, plating the food a minute later. Keith followed him to the dining room table, sitting down.  
“It smells really good,” Keith said, taking a bite of the bacon, and Lance nodded.

  
“I’m such a host, dude. I just love to plan parties and make people feel welcome. I was super excited when I woke up this morning and remembered that you were still over,” He admitted, smiling and shoving a bite of pancake into his mouth.

  
“I have a question, but I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Keith began, and he only continued when Lance nodded, “You can’t be much older than me… how are you so rich?” He asked, and Lance laughed, shaking his head.

  
“Well, when I graduated from university a couple years ago, I was an engineer. But I kind of hated it, and then my friend and I invented a new type of generator for long voyage transportation. So like… rockets and and stuff. And we sold that for some millions of dollars. And now I work at my friend Hunk’s bakers, and I absolutely love it,” He said, smiling a bit. Keith blinked at him, completely surprised.

  
“Holy shit, you’re a millionaire? I like… am getting my PHD because I was too stressed about being a real adult. I’m like half a million dollars in debt or something ridiculous. Who even are you?” Keith exclaimed.

  
“No… who are you?” And Keith was not ready for that. He froze, eyes wide. And they sat in silence for a few minutes. He wasn't sure how to explain that he had just sort of stumbled here. How was he supposed to tell Lance that he hadn't meant to stay, but Lance was just so  _charming_. Eventually, Keith answered.

  
“Oh… uh, I swear it’s like… my brother lives here. Well not here obviously. But in the complex. He just moved here, and I got lost and… I ended up at your party instead of his? And it was an accident, and I was going to leave, but it was really fun, and you’re kind of really cool and I just… didn’t?”

  
“I’m Lance. I mean, I know that you know that… but I don’t actually know your name.”

  
And Keith groaned, hiding his face in his hands, “‘m Keith,” He mumbled miserably, and he was surprised by how nice Lance was being. He couldn’t even imagine being in his shoes.

  
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Keith,”

  
“It’s nice to meet you too, Lance,” He said, peeking out from behind his hands.

  
“So, young Keith. Do you crash all of the men’s parties?” He asked, and Keith slowly dropped his hands, shaking his head.

  
“No, just the really cute ones that play ping pong and serve pink champagne and cook me breakfast the next morning,” He said, and then Lance was blushing, not breaking eye contact.

  
“Mmm, he sounds lovely. I think you should consider keeping him. Have you thought about it?” Lance asked, and Keith laughed, shrugging.

  
“Maybe, if he’s let me,” He said, and Lance just grins, taking another bite of his pancakes.

  
“I think he will,”


End file.
